


Wishing on a Nightmare

by NihilismPastry



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Asphyxiation, Blood Kink, Choking, Creampie, F/M, Forced Orgasm, Possessive Junkrat, Stalker Junkrat, non-con
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-08
Updated: 2018-04-08
Packaged: 2019-04-20 10:23:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,041
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14258925
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NihilismPastry/pseuds/NihilismPastry
Summary: You have a stalker...





	Wishing on a Nightmare

You had never really thought of yourself as an interesting person. Afterall, you lived on your own in a small town. It was one of those places that bordered on a city, and more than half of the yards were filled with small farms, and the other half were huge expanses of yards that would likely become farms when the owners finally got their toddlers to stop eating the grass. Your house was one of those houses sans the farm, not that you had kids, it was actually your grandmother’s and it was a loaner until she decided to come back from the coast. **  
**

Then there was your job.

It was also a very normal and boring affair. You worked, as cliche as it sounded, as a barista at your small town coffee shop. It was a cheesy place with bright colored walls, a stupid pun for a name, and banana bread that always slightly burned no matter how early you took it out of the beat up oven. You got all sorts of customers, everything from the small farmers who were also nurses and doctors in the city, the farmers from the large farms a whole hour away, and there were even those annoying teenagers who refused to drink at Starbucks just to ‘disrupt the flow of money’…

Or something.

Personally, you thought it had way more to do with the fact that Starbucks was an overpriced wonderland, but you weren’t about to call out the same annoying brats that wouldn’t stop egging your house on Halloween. One day it would be eggs, and the next it would be huge swaths of paper towels that would have to get torn down before the rains came down and made a sticky, sloshy mess everywhere.

Anyway…

You were a normal person. Perhaps in a very boring and ordinary life, but it was still about as normal as could be. So maybe it was perfectly normal for you to stare at the thousands of stars dancing across the sky and hope for more. Hope that you wouldn’t just get a boring job, just get married, and just pump out kids like you were supposed to. Did all the fun and adventures have to die just because you came back home after college?

No.

Of course not!

There were so many exciting things and groups going on in the world right now! Overwatch had come back, there were leaps and bounds in science every day, acts of great power and awe constantly shifting the way the political arena worked. Heck, there was even romances between humans and omnics in some places in this world. It was like a giant, wonderous meal of adventure just waiting for you to dig in and find your first succulent bite!

So you wished on the brightest star that night. Your legs propped up on an old cooler, a beer in your hand and head tilted back. Those bright and glittering dots stared down at you as you mouthed the childish wish, hoping with all your heart that something would come of it, that you would be whisked away for an adventure of a lifetime…

And in the most twisted way..

**_You were._ **

* * *

 

It all started with a call.

You’d figured it was for a wrong number. After all, who really called up a stranger and demanded a picture of their genitals? You’d merely shook your head and hung up the phone with that one, not even letting the person finish as you went back to folding a pile of laundry that was fresh out the dryer.

This person continued to call you two more times before you used one of those blocking apps on your phone.

This didn’t seem to stop them from using a completely different phone though.Every day for the next two weeks the same person called, but they used different phones once you decided to block them. When it got to the point that you were being sent very disturbing pictures of a pierced dick, you had thrown your phone out the window and ordered a new one from the parent company right away.

The phone came in a shiny black box, and when you had installed your last profile onto the lovely new device, you were pleased to find several messages. There was excitement from a coworker about her day off, your mother was checking in on you, and there was an email from a gaming site that you had signed up for due to their monthly sales. However, despite all the familiarity, an unknown number had left you a voicemail. “Who’s this?”

You clicked the button, and your heart sank when you heard ragged breathing and something sloppy and wet slapping. You quickly pressed ‘stop’ and tossed your phone across your bed, and brought your legs up to your chest. That was utterly disgusting, like something out of one of those horror movies.

This couldn’t stand.

You had to do something.

You deleted all the data on your phone and created a completely new profile. You looked through a dusty old phone book and typed up all the numbers that were important to you before downloading a new blocking app. Once you had done that, you didn’t get any texts or pictures for a while. Just from your usual friends, family, and the occasional telemarketer trying to sell you something.

It didn’t last though.

Only a week later you got more calls, and the wet sounds were louder, and you could hear ragged breathing. The pictures became more and more indecent. Sometimes you would see places you recognized such as your workplace, that alley beside the general store, or even the park. You had taken these to the police, but they couldn’t identify the person and suggested that you get a new phone and change your profile.

You tried to explain that you’d already tried that method twice now, but that only lead the police to tell you that it must have been someone you knew that used a different phone and profile in order to send you such things. The only problem with that was you highly doubted any of your friends or relatives had pierced dicks. But speculation didn’t equal facts, and you ended up leaving the police station with even fewer options than you had before.

This led to multiple awkward conversations with relatives, and more heated ones with friends. Some people dismissed you from their circles, others you got into yelling matches with. The worst one was a friend who hung up on you the moment you asked the question and refused to answer no matter how much you called or texted them. Within the matter of a few hours, you found your phone’s contact list, which was one filled with so many people who cared for you, now cut in half.

When you had wished on that star a few weeks ago, you had wanted to dive headfirst into an adventure. To find a treasure hidden under your floorboards, meet a foreigner that would whisk you away from your boring town, or even find a ticket to a cruise all the way on those beautiful and exotic islands they showed in the movies. Instead, your life was plagued by a stalker that haunted you every moment of your day, and you had no proof or even a hint of a clue who it could even be.

You stared at your phone for several moments. A picture of a grinning you and an old oak tree you used to climb as your wallpaper. There were several apps littering the cute scene and a bright red bubble towards the top that had the number 99 with a tiny plus mark next to it. In the span of thirty minutes, you had 99 notifications from someone you didn’t know and wished that would just leave you alone.

In the movies, this would be the part that the heroine would call the person and demand that they stop. To make a badass monologue that would get talked about in movie articles and tabloids. People would probably quote it for several weeks, and maybe someone would actually use it on their own stalker.

But this wasn’t a movie…Was it.

This was reality.

And in reality land, you were a single person with no one else living with them, no weapons, and no way to keep an intruder at bay if they were pissed off enough to begin a confrontation. You didn’t have extra funds for medical bills, and even if you did have all the money to throw on the bills, you had an incredibly low pain tolerance. There wasn’t a world where this scenario would play out well, and you wanted to avoid it at all costs.

You pressed on the bubble, ignoring another dick pick that popped up, and deleted all the messages. Once that was done you set the phone on the charging stand before rolling over onto your back and staring at the sky through the ceiling window. Thousands of stars glittered and danced among the inky swirls of the night sky. Mocking and laughing at your misfortune, no doubt.

You sighed and shut your eyes for a moment. You knew all of this really didn’t have anything to do with stars and wishes. It was a childish thought, almost as childish as the act of making a wish on them, but…

Your eyes opened as you stared at the sky. “I know my last wish was really selfish, but I’d really appreciate it if this wish came through.” You rubbed at your eyes with sweat slicked hands. “If anyone up there is listening. Stars, wishes, whatever…Please help me get out of this. Please help this to stop happening.”

You repeated the words to yourself as you slid off the bed. The words a mantra as you slipped out of your shorts, underwear, and tank top. You tossed them haphazardly around the room before making your way to the bathroom. Your shower was quick, and you didn’t even see a real need for one if you were being honest. You’d taken a proper one an hour ago after work, but seeing those pictures made you feel like filth and misery clung to your body like a second skin, and a scalding hot shower was the only cure to help alleviate the discomfort that plagued you.

You exited the steamy room an hour later and wrinkled your nose when the cold air hit you full on. Cinnamon was still heavy in the air, but the smell of smoke and something bitter swirled in the room as well. “Did I leave the stove on?”

You kept your towel wrapped tight around you as you padded downstairs and into the kitchen. The stove was off, there wasn’t even a trace of heat from any of the eyes. You could smell smoke down here as well, but it was thicker and heavier as if someone had burnt a pan in the oven. You pursed your lips and opened the oven, and then took a peek into the banged up microwave sitting across from the stove.

Nothing.

“Should call the stupid electrician,” you muttered as you opened up the fridge and took out a bottle of vodka and orange juice. You filled up a leftover fast food cup three fourths of the way with orange juice, and the rest of the way with your booze of choice. Sure it was a little strong, but it was one of those nights, and a good drink never failed to help distract you from your creaking old mess of a house.

You sipped at the bite riddled straw as you made your way up the creaking stairs. Every so often you had to shift your weight or else you threatened to get a foot stuck in the floorboards, but otherwise you managed to skip over any disastrous trips down the stairs thanks to your own clumsiness and the booze that now had your body alight with warmth and giddiness. “Fuck, gotta call ‘bout the stairs too. Hate this place…”

You let your towel drop the moment you entered the room, and sucked down the rest of your drink in a series of gulps. With trembling fingers, you reached down to pick up your tank top and pulled it over your head. Once it was in place your eyes searched for your underwear amongst the clutter of clothes, paper, and some takeout containers…

Nothing.

“Didn’t I wear panties to bed?”

You thought you did…

Huh, oh well.

You crawled into bed without any bottoms on and pulled your quilt over your head. You had an early shift at the coffee shop and an interview with the newspaper. Maybe you could finally begin some part of your life instead of entrenched in this nightmare.

* * *

 

You were drunk. **  
**

Tequila burned your lips and mixed pleasantly with the hot chilies on your tongue. It was just take out Mexican and the cheapest Tequila you could get from the liquor store down the road, but it was still absolutely wonderful!

You had a job now!

Not just a job, but the first step with your career as a journalist! So what it was just a tiny spot in the obituary section, it was still something! You’d already called up everyone in your circle, updated all your social media, and even quit your job at the cafe that morning. Even the shitty messages from your stalker couldn’t bring down your attitude that evening as you drowned in tequila and queso cheese.

“And they said I’d never get anywhere!” Your words were slurred and far too loud for one in the morning, but you couldn’t be bothered to give a fuck. “Should throw a fucking party!”

You continued to babble to yourself as you stepped over your boxes of food and went to get to the kitchen and get another margarita made up. Maybe you should just take straight shots at this point? You didn’t wanna have to peel another lime. As you contemplated this in front of the quarter empty bottle, your nose wrinkled and you turned to stare at the stove. “I didn’t cook today…”

This morning had been a poptart, you’d skipped lunch, and dinner was in boxes on your living room floor. The electrician had come by this morning too, and according to a text, there hadn’t been anything wrong with the wires. You popped open the tequila bottle and took a swig, before going over to the window and peering out into the darkness of your yard. If you squinted on a clear night you could sometimes catch a glimpse of what the neighbors were doing. They were an old couple, though. At this time of night the neighbors were typically dead asleep, not unless their grandkids came over, but it wasn’t quite summer yet…

“What’re ya lookin’ for?”  Your heart leapt into your throat and you twisted around, just to stare at a man with a soot covered face, and singed hair. The bottle in your hand slipped to the floor shattering liquid and glass everywhere. “Hey, don’t go wastin’ it all.”

“W-who are you?”

The man snickered and leaned down closer to your height. “Oh? You don’t remember me? Really?”

You shook your head. “N-No. Why are you in my house?”

“Six months ago, I saved your beautiful face from getting impaled by a building,” he said. “Kinda life threatenin’ and such. Figured ya’d remember.”

Of course, you remember when your dorm almost toppled over. It marked the most exciting thing that had ever happened to you, and you had wanted more interesting times like that one. However, you don’t remember getting saved by a stalker lunatic!

He took a step forward and you took one back. Glass crunched underneath your feet and you hissed and ended up stumbling forward in an attempt to get away from the pain. The man snickered and yanked you by the waist so you were flush against him.

You could smell the smoke so much stronger now.

“L-let go of me!”

“Oh? Why should I?”

“Because I’ll call the cops!” You wriggled in his grasp, taking out your cracked phone. “You’re the one who’s been sending messages, right? Well if I call the cops and have a picture of you, they’ll have to take my story seriously.”

His gaze drifted to your phone, and before you could react a metal hand snatched it from you. A sickening crack sounded from the device, and metal bits and bobs fell to the floor, followed by the entire device. “Oops.”

“You bastard!”

He grabbed you roughly and slammed you into a wall. A shock of pain reverberated down your spine, and you jumped as he pushed his own face so close to yours you could smell bourbon on his breath. “I’m the bastard? I’m not the one who forgot their hero, Missy.”

“N-no I didn’t-!”  
  


Smack!

Your face stung and you could taste blood on the tip of your tongue as it seeped past your lips. You stared up at the man in horror and he tsked his tongue as if all he was doing was schooling a naughty child. “You did. I won’t let you forget though.”

His free hand reached down and tugged at the hem of your dress, effectively tearing away the material entirely. He tossed it behind him and did the same to your bra, allowing your breasts to fall free. He chuckled as if he was just told an amusing joke before bending down and taking a nipple into your mouth. A dry tongue slipped against your flesh, and it took everything inside you not to vomit on his head outright.

Maybe if you were quiet and let him do whatever he would leave. Once he was gone you’d run over to the neighbors, use their phone, and move the hell out of your little town. You could move to the city, and just exist there until you felt it was safe-!

“Ah!”

You stared down at the grinning man. His breast was still in your mouth, but his teeth had sunken into it. Blood dribbled down your body, getting soaked into your underwear and his pants. He unlatched his jaws and started on the other breast, licking the nipple a few times before biting deeply once again. The sharp sting and overwhelming pain prompted another scream that rose in pitch when he smacked your face again. “Oh, shut up. You weren’t screaming when you fucked yourself after falling out of bed. You hit your head against a dresser, had to hurt worse.”

That was…

That was a week after you got back home from college.

He’d been stalking you that long?

You don’t get a chance to think about it as you’re dragged off the wall and dumped onto the floor. You try to scramble onto your feet, but his metal hand gripped your hair and started pulling you. Screams were torn from your throat as you felt fire burn along your scalp, and glass to dig deep into your thighs and calves.

It hurt!

**It hurt!**

**_It all hurt so much!_ **

Your body stops moving, and you risk opening your eyes, just to find yourself in the bathroom. The cold tiles almost soothed your throbbing legs, and the scent of ocean body wash almost overpowered the smoke wafting from your stalker. You yelped as he pulled once, and getting the message you scrambled to your feet. He let go of your hair, but his real hand curled around your throat and pushed you forward, forcing you to prop your hands against the mirror.

You were a mess. Blood was streaked all over your lips, chin, jaws, and even more coated your legs. Your hair was all over your hair and some of it stuck to your face, matted with blood, sweat, and tears. The bite marks stood out against skin, and there were purple and violet brises beginning to blossom all over you.

The grinning face of your stalker had you shuddering again, and you averted your gaze, just for the hand on your neck to squeeze. Your airway was blocked, and your eyes widened as you were forced to hold your breath.

“Keep lookin’, Missy.” You shuddered as you felt something warm and slick rub against your thigh. “Feel that? I’m gonna fuck ya tight cunt, ‘nd I want you to watch every second of it.”

That was your only warning before he began forcing himself into your cunt. You could feel cold metal and throbbing skin slid against your walls, stretching them far more than they had in a long time. You grit your teeth, but your gaze remained on the cock forcing itself in and out of your cunt. You curl your toes as a hand smacked your ass, but you refuse to make a noise over it. You refused to acknowledge the slide of metal against your G-spot, and the building pressure in your abdomen.

Baseball.

Politics.

That stupid wheatgrass recipe your ex used to make you drink.

There was a low growl, and you grit your teeth as fingers rubbed at your clit. In seconds your walls squeezed down on that filthy cock, and your body was trembling as you came around him. “That’s right, Missy. Cum on my fucking cock.” He picked up the pace, his fingers still rubbing your clit. “Again. Come on. I love it when you cum like that.”

A sharp sob escaped you as your body continued to tremble and shake. The first one had been so quick, and he hadn’t given you time to calm down from it. A sweat slicked hand slipped off the mirror and grabbed his wrist, trying to get him to stop, to at least stall before you came again.

That hand was slammed back onto the mirror and the reflective surface cracked from the impact. You shriek from both the pain in your wrist and more glass biting into your skin, staining more of it that bright shade of red. “I’m sorry!”

“Yeah, yeah.” He paused in his thrusting long enough to gather both your hands in his smaller one and used a hair tie to keep your hands bound together. The elastic dug into your wrists, and you knew it wouldn’t be long before they went numb. Your hands were placed back on the mirror, and he started that grueling pace back up. “You can’t listen or remember for shit. Should knock you up, huh? Teach you and our baby how to remember and be good.”

Your eyes widened, and you stared at his grinning face in the mirror. “P-please don’t.”

He growled and bit your ear. A sharp scream escaped as blood slipped down your ear and neck, and you knew he tore a hole into your earlobe. “Too late. Can feel ya gettin’ so tight on me.” He swiped several fingers along your ear, staining them with blood, before digging down and swirling those same blood soaked fingers around your clit. “Let’s make a family.”

You shook your head wildly, words a jumbled mess as he continued to fuck you. A tilt of your hips upward and he began grinding pointedly on your G-spot, his fingers making small counter-clockwise circles on your clit. No matter how much you tried to put it off, you couldn’t stop your spine arching, and your walls clamping down on his still pounding cock. You choked out a sob and watched him continue his assault through the mirror.

It wasn’t long before he was pressing more of his weight against you, that metal hand clamping down on your ass almost painfully tight. You grit your teeth as you felt warm cum spurt into your cunt, and more of it slip past his throbbing cock and splash onto the floor.

“Ah, shit. What a mess.” He continued giving slow pumps into your abused pussy. “Well fuck it, I’ll just fuck you again. Make sure it sticks ‘nd all that.”

You shut your eyes and let out a choked sob.

_**No amount of wishing was going to get you out of this.** _

**Author's Note:**

> Yeah, this got really dark...I feel like Junkrat really would be upset if someone forgot his entire existence, dubious evidence or no. >_>
> 
> Know what doesn't forget? My Tumblr! http://nihilismpastry.tumblr.com/


End file.
